TV SPORTS; In Old Movies, Fresh Look At Rutgers and Robinson

By RICHARD SANDOMIR

Published: April 17, 2007

Early last week, as Don Imus's career unraveled, Peter Schnall, a film producer, called PBS headquarters to remind executives there that it was a propitious time to replay his 2004 documentary, ''This Is a Game Ladies,'' which chronicled the 2000-1 season of the Rutgers University women's basketball team, an earlier version of the team Imus insulted.

''I said, 'Hello? Is anybody watching what's going on?' '' he said yesterday, ''and they said, 'We were thinking the same thing.' ''

The documentary was re-released and ran in several markets, including New York, where it was shown on Channel 13 Saturday evening, two days after CBS Radio fired Imus, ending his 20-year run on WFAN.

Those who watched the poise of Coach C. Vivian Stringer's players in a news conference last week, when they described how much Imus's words had hurt them, would have seen a similarly impressive group in the film. They would have also seen Stringer's influence, as she molded her players for life on the court and life after college, much as HBO viewers saw the impact that the Tennessee women's basketball coach Pat Summitt had on her players in a 1998 documentary, ''Cinderella Season: The Lady Vols Fight Back.''

It's not an original thought to say that Imus picked the wrong targets. His sports knowledge is not deep, which led to his spewing of stereotypical venom, regardless of his intent. Schnall said he was fascinated during his season with the team by the ''spirit of who they are and the goal of what they're after, not just of winning, but to make a statement about who they are as young players and young black women in a world that's against them from the get-go.''

One incident during the 2000-1 season as depicted by Schnall provided an early look at the stereotyping that has been directed at the predominantly black team. In advance of a Rutgers-Connecticut game in Storrs in 2001, a local columnist wrote about the Scarlet Knights: ''All the tattoos, all the black uniforms and the headbands and the bravado don't mean a thing'' and ''that street style has never meshed well against the Huskies' poise and depth.''

Imus, in fact, mentioned the tattoos of the Rutgers players before his more infamous comments, comparing them with the ''cute'' Tennessee players, who faced Rutgers in the final of the N.C.A.A. women's tournament.

''When he said 'cute,' that capped it for me,'' Schnall said. ''Not only had he said what he said about Rutgers, but he was saying, 'Check out these babes.' ''

While the debate over what can or cannot be said on public airwaves will fade as the news cycle grabs another subject for 24/7 treatment, the Imus meltdown can be illuminated by viewing ''This Is a Game Ladies,'' which is available on DVD at partisanpictures.com. Schnall said there was a rumor of interest from MSNBC, which simulcast Imus's program before dropping it last week. ''Maybe a little mea culpa,'' he said. ''They need to fill time.''

Another film that received significant play (on the YES Network and ESPN Classic) during a weekend in which the 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's first game with the Brooklyn Dodgers was commemorated was ''The Jackie Robinson Story.'' In the 1950 movie, Robinson portrayed himself, with dignity, but with extra weight and with little acting skill.

Even without acting ability, he was more credible than the goofy William Bendix was in his depiction of Babe Ruth. And because Robinson was a great ballplayer, he gave a better on-field account than Gary Cooper did as Lou Gehrig in ''Pride of the Yankees.''

More significant, though, Robinson played himself timidly, almost meekly, in a way that he never was. One never sensed the anger that simmered inside him in the run-up to breaking the color barrier, or even a vivid sense of the injustices he faced. In his dealings with Branch Rickey, the Dodgers' president and co-owner, Robinson as Robinson seems too wide-eyed and overmatched. The film was a product of careful times in depicting race relations in Hollywood, but the director Alfred E. Green offered a tepid version of an astonishing story that begs to be remade.

ESPN's coverage of the Robinson anniversary contained a jewel of a clip: Robinson and Howard Cosell in the back of a limo leaving Gil Hodges's funeral in 1972. Robinson would be dead in a few months, and in it, he discussed his health problems (a coronary, high blood pressure, diabetes, blindness) and the death of his older son, Jackie Jr. He deflected a question about why he was selected for such woes by recalling a priest's comforting words to Ralph Branca after he gave up Bobby Thomson's home run in 1951.

Perhaps the anger was gone from Robinson by this day, but he told Cosell: ''I've had a great life. I've overcome many things. I have a great family. I had a greater family. I don't know that I would do anything to change it.''